


Around the Bend

by Hgrade



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers (The Last Knight)
Genre: M/M, Size Difference, minicon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 17:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11295432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hgrade/pseuds/Hgrade
Summary: Spoilers of course





	Around the Bend

**Author's Note:**

> RIP Kid appeal character.
> 
> Open ended ending like most of my stuff.

Megatron didn't feel a thing, though the clatter did finally register after a few seconds in quiet bliss. The other two mechs aren't caught up yet, but by the time they have their boss has already shifted into his biped form. The silvery 'con eyes over some new bullets embedded in his hard outer shell. 

"What's that?" muses the police looking mech, for a but a mili-klick fixated on the worn little minicon.

Megtron offers less than a shrug. Nitro chuckles "That little abomination tagged along."

The sole decepticon arm had been caught in Megatron's wing earlier. The limb's aching pain wakes him. A few sparks mark the awakening, eyes lighting up as he shudders. The location disorients him, pitch black save for the high set windows. Through one he can see a tattered flag waving.

Then the minicon registers the voices, the faint lights. His optics adjust and his joints create a chatter with little shivers.

"Cute, cute" comes the loud mech, pale mesh coat. 

Squeaks freezes at those softly spoken words. 

Nitro's fingers grasp around the minicon's handlebar arm- how stupidly useless. "why this fragging mess?" Barricade doesn't answer. He's gone to the pile of equipment in one of the corners, boarded by junked cars. Nitro registers it and looks back down at the minicon. "You picked a really shitty time to side with those humans." the chain around his neck clinks softly as he nabs the minicon, shooting a quick look at the other two decepticons. Megatron's pissed already, don't add touching Autobots to the mix.

Barricade eyes the silvery body picking over the patch tools they have on hand. There's a few scratches and dents here, a wide dip from a blade. Most of the damage originates from the shrapnel and explosive debris flung at them in the battle. 

The flier picks the furthest corner, the tall shelves are lined with abandoned human equipment. Dust-caked and rotten goods observe the mech sitting on a burnt out shell of a car. Squeaks shivers like a dying radiator, his pleading grows louder as the stranger's free hand grows invasive. A sharp claw pokes at his chest plate, fingers sliding over the edge to test the connection. It suddenly grabs Squeaks' wheel and pulls it away from his body, straining the small joint. Distantly Nitro hears someone approaching and sets the minicon aside. 

Barricade's crackling soldering tool looks quite haunting in the failing daylight. "Keep it down." he has nothing else to deliver. Megatron's sulking, glancing over one shoulder as the dark bot returns. The smaller mech examines a chunk of metal and pulls it from one plated forearm. Megatron sighs, head tilting down as Barracade starts to pry a large shard out. 

Nitro shoves the minicon against a thigh and presses down on the minicon's audio with a finger. The little bot begins to writhe as the mech's remaining fingers brace his body straight. The Decepticon's free hand drifts lower, crawling up the single tire and up into the chassis holding the small frame's interface panel. A ticklish buzzing pervades his single finger as the minicon tries to scream. The clawed finger scratches the protective plate once, twice, the third leaves a long scratch across the already rusty surface. He gets a grip after a moment.

The two mechs are picking out shrapnel quietly, listening to the soft screeching made by the other flier. Megatron settles down on the makeshift slab, crushed cars compacted by their metal arms. Barricade usually isn't one for interface- they both exchange an exhausted look. Megatron's picking off the flecks of burnt rubber and whatever gummy shit the humans had thrown in to make some of their mess stick together. It sticks against his clawed fingers, between index and thumb he rolls. They have help but-

"Megatron, sir?" There's a faint crunch of thin metal.

"Yes?" 

"May I interfere? He's going to rape it to death."

The decepticon leader hums, "I doubt he's idiotic enough to cause that." the goo strings between his claws and glints with the red light of his optics. "If you want to watch to ensure the minicon's safety, now." the glowing red orbs flick to Barracade's schooled expression.

Something unpleasant crawls into Barracade's processor at the smile given to him by Megatron. Anger bubbles in the cop car's tank, he nods curtly. The mech goes back to the corner where the muffled screaming originates at, hardly any light to see with. Sunset has yet to cast it's glow in the building.

The cop car feels like ejecting his fuel intake at the sight. Nitro's finger digging into the obviously distressed minicon, a few rivulets of energon dripping down the finger and onto the thigh beneath. The flier draws the digit out and brings it to his own intake- despite the zipper-like configuration of plates his thin tongue darts out to savor the taste. He's so busy he doesn't notice the watcher, he goes back to fingering the minicon. Nitro knows he can't get another claw in- he's already tried. The mech briefly uncovers the vocalizer so he can clap his servo over the little face entirely. 

There's a sharp "You can't do much with a poor intake like your own." The cyclopes and the multi-eyed mech look to Megatron's intrusion. He steps forward, plucks the minicon from the other mech's hold and gives it a smile.

Barricade looks the other way, mouth peeling itself across his face in a grimace. The cyclopse watches, entranced by the closeness of their leader to the little freak. He shudders from the thought of their great, glorious leader touching such an abomination so inappropriately. His spike's been out, he squeezes it slowly as Megatron's mouth presses against the minicon's groin. The screaming hasn't stopped.

The minicon chokes as the searing mouth pushes against him, and then in the next second so does the large decepticon's tongue. It's too wide and thick for him to stand any chance. The slimy organ slips between the outer valve lips and deep into the minicon.

Squeaks desperately wishes he'd never fallen out of the sky, wishes he'd never picked such a shitty alt mode. Squeaks wishes Canopy was here to save him, wishes desperately for his innumerable dead friends were still around to stop this from happening. The invasive, warm feeling coats his valve and he hates himself for liking any of it. His little optics dim as he shuts them off and goes quiet. 

The leader throws the minicon back to the other 'con, only caring for having earned their quiet back. Barricade stays rooted in his spot until he hears the unmistakable sound of something being pressed into the now lubricated minicon. A shiver threatens his mighty frame, but he leaves before it happens. Nitro's trying the second finger again, getting pained squeaks with every attempt.

Barricade stops at their repair station, knowing Megatron's gaze lingers. "Anything else you need assistance with?"

"I almost want to understand your concern, but that wretch will die soon. Not by our hands." Megatron sits on the compacted seat again. "There's no use in caring for its comfort. Sit with me." The blue and white con recognizes it as an order and sits next to Megatron. 

The minicon tries to bite back the squeal of pain as the next finger stops trying to fit in- it can't. Nitro sets the tiny bot on the arch of his cord and pushes the minicon up and down. The flier's hips cant upwards of their own accord.

The cop 'con can tell already what the gray brute wants, from the way the optics are going to his groin. Megatron's servo slips over there next, not shy with the intrusion. It's easy to give in, to let the plating fold back. He thinks about the crushed cover that the minicon now misses. Megatron slides a finger into the other con's valve slowly, thumbing over his spike casing. The leader bears a thoughtful expression, leaning on his free hand. Barricade slowly lubricates with the careful movement, eventually allowing another digit in. Megatron pulls his hand out and molests the other con's rod, smearing his own fluids over it. 

Barricade finds Megatron facing away from him, not a surprise. The larger mech has to crouch and then grab the cord with his hand- minding the claws to position it right. There's no resistance when Megatron's squeezing around him so tightly, the familiar feeling almost drowning out all of his processes in one warm move. His servos settle around the larger frame's hips, Megatron grinds slowly. They both vent hard enough to stir up dust. 

Metatron squeezes slowly around the familiar model, they go a little bit deeper than usual like this. He lifts his hips, nearly forcing the other bot out entirely. Then the mech slides down, covering the mech's metal dick entirely. The larger mech's walls flutter and squeeze hard in alternating pressure. He finds himself rocking back and forth with his metal thighs in short motions. The heat slowly crawls up his array, systems building in a well-known rut. Barricade leans into the leader, optics shuttered as he hears the chug of his own spark building from the heat. 

The black bot goes over the edge first, shuddering and squeezing his servos tightly around the bigger body. Megatron's calipers squeeze and he keeps moving, faster, harder. Barricade braces himself against the already-slightly-flattened seat as Megatron fights to not lose the charge. The bigger bot gives a harder tug and shivers deliciously when he finally hits the overload.

Barricade even fails to notice the dead-silence bellow their heavy fans.


End file.
